


The only thing that I ask love me mercilessly

by pseudofoucault333



Category: Heroes (TV)
Genre: Angry Sex, Christmas Eve, Drunk Sex, Drunken Kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post Season 4, Undressing, mentioned Caitlin/Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 09:44:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2846537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudofoucault333/pseuds/pseudofoucault333
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and Sylar don't like Christmas for their own reasons and meet at one dead end bar on Christmas Eve. But with an attraction between them that has been brewing for some time will it be a night to remember or just another fight?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The only thing that I ask love me mercilessly

**Title:** The only thing that I ask love me mercilessly  
 **Author:** lovin_torture // pseudofoucault333  
 **Rating:** R -NC17  
 **Pairing:** Peter/Sylar  
 **POV:** 3rd  
 **Summary:** Peter and Sylar don't like Christmas for their own reasons and meet at one dead end bar on christmas eve. But with an attraction between them that has been brewing for some time will it be a night to remember or just another fight?  
 **Disclaimer:** The whole concept of Heroes © the awesomeness that is Tim Kring/ NBC, don’t sue because the contents of my bank account is only worth next to nothing in US$. Plot mostly based on fiction…i.e not real….but a girl can wish <3 title © The Bravery. This was written for for 24 days of Pylar Christmas 2009 but reposted for christmas cheer now :)  
 **Author Notes:** This fic is unbeta'd so all mistakes etc remain my own. Comments etc = pwp and cookies :D

Christmas had used to be a festive time for Peter Petrelli, spending time with his family and feeling like the luckiest kid in the world. When he was younger he had lived for the atmosphere, the music, food and love that came with the holidays which had always made him sure that this was how he always wanted his life to be. Yet things and times had changed since then and now that time of year had become the one he loathed the most. His brother had been killed by an elusive, yet easily corruptible man, his mother was in hiding after her real intentions and motivation became known to their little community and the only real family members he had left, he had little knowledge of. Sure he knew his niece Claire, was on the other side of the country spending time with her adopted parents but his nephews and sister in law hadn’t been seen since Nathan was killed. It was all that and more that found him in a bar in the city, staring into the golden depths of his brandy the very drink Nathan had always consumed at this time of year.

The only real implication of the season in his present environment was the few cheap decorations leaning against dusty old liquor bottles on the shelves behind the bar that probably hadn’t seen the light of day since the eighties and the sound of old style Christmas music coming from a transistor radio. The radio itself was hidden giving the music a slightly mysterious vibe but at the same time it made Peter wish he knew its location so he could smash it against the wall and have some much needed silence.

He was still staring into the bottom of his glass when he heard the front door open and close. Normally he wouldn’t think much about something so insignificant, hell everyone had to open and close a door to get into a building but this wasn’t exactly a normal situation given that the bar had a limited cliental many of which steered clear of the place around Christmas to the point where as he’d been making his way there he’d wondered if it would even be open. But a spark at the feeling of a set of eyes following the contours of his body made him look up from the untouched drink and over his shoulder at the new occupant. Though part of him wished he hadn’t bothered. The subject of the disruption was the same subject who had plagued his very existence since he discovered his powers. The man who had tried to cut his head open to get his power before ripping his perfect family apart at the seams and leaving him to become the bitter lonely person he currently was. All because of his craving for power getting them by any means necessary.

The serial killer, dressed in his usual attire of black leather, seemed to ignore the attention he was being given as he sat at the bar with a bar stool separating the two of them. He murmured an order for a few shots of Vodka with his gaze on the bar as though completely oblivious to Peter’s fixation. True, Peter had never expected to be the only one in the city, restless around Christmas but for some reason he had never expected Sylar to be the type who would traipse around bars for vodka when he could be at his apartment coming up with a new plan to make his life a living hell. But it did make a lot of sense that no-one would want to be with him around this time of year, he didn’t exactly scream of festive cheer. 

Quickly the Medic turned his attention back to his drink to pretend the other wasn’t there as his thoughts returned to its previous train of thought. Of him and Catlin at their last Christmas together. Waking up on Christmas day with her perfectly lithe body coiled around his, their lips meeting as those three now dreaded words flowed like the sweat over their skin since the air conditioning was broke. It had been too long since he’d had someone in his bed who was interested in fucking him, one off or otherwise. And he could easily blame his workaholic personality, which could be seen as a Petrelli family trait, he knew his taste in a bed mate had become so limited to the point where no-one but his version of perfection would do, leather clad skin and all.

But while his version of perfection was complicated beyond explanation to get what he wanted meant admitting defeat and par-taking a sinful act with the devil in leather. Something he would rather die than admit how much he wanted to act to the attraction he felt. How he ached to feel that body on top of his, thrusting inside him and biting at his neck until he could barely stop his screams and groans for more. A feeling he hadn’t experienced for some time coiled in his stomach at the image in his sexually deprived mind and he finally made himself down the mouthful of brandy, screwing his eyes closed as he tried to cleanse his thoughts of such wrong but sexually arousing fantasies.

“I’ll have another.” He croaked hoarsely, pushing his empty glass forward to the bartender who merely picked up the bottle of brandy.

He kept his gaze on the bar, trying to think of things to keep his libido under control but at the same time he heard the stool separating him and Sylar scrap along the wooden floor. He watched out the corner of his eye as Sylar slid into the other seat like he knew what Peter was thinking about causing him to stiffen. The bartender snapped him back to reality by putting his glass back in front of him but Peter didn’t waste any time in down the contents before asking for a double. He ignored the raised eyebrow that appeared on the man’s weathered old face and kept his gaze on his bitten finger nails.

“Didn’t expect to see you in a place like this Petrelli.” Sylar murmured pausing to down one of his shots, ignoring the glare he received from the bartender for insulting his establishment.

“I’d say the same but I’m sure you’ve see worse places.” Peter said absent-mindedly, keeping the tone of his voice indifferent even as his body seemed to jerk at the closeness between them. If he was any kind of person he would ran away like a school girl with a crush at being so close to the guy he fantasised about but at that moment he didn’t care. He made a deal with himself to have another five drinks before leaving since his selection at the apartment wasn’t exactly up to scratch at the moment.

“You wouldn’t be wrong there,” Sylar sighed, downing another shot and pushing the empty glass down the bar towards the bartender. “Though I have to wonder why you, Mr. Petrelli family man, aren’t with your mother or niece?”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask that when you’re pretty much the reason my Christmas is shit to begin with.” Peter sighed; ignoring the feeling of a leather clad thigh brushing his denim covered one. It could have easily been mistaken for an accidental movement until the toe of Sylar’s boot started to brush a steady pattern up and down his shin. If he didn’t know any better he could swear Sylar was _flirting_ with him.

“Oh come on Peter, like you would even be the you that you are now if I hadn’t interjected in your little sham of a family.” Sylar said rolling his eyes, picking up another filled shot glass by thumb and index finger and downing it in one.

“Sham! My mother and brother both loved me! How can that be seen as wrong?” Peter snapped, pulling his next drink towards him and downing it faster than he had his previous two.

“Well...for starters your mother was keeping things from you....like how she was using you and brother dearest for work. Not to mention your brother having that little affair resulting in your beloved Niece who I’m sure you’ve thought of fucking a fair few times. Need I go on?” Sylar asked, raising an eyebrow at Peter’s change of drinking pace.

“I’d rather you didn’t. You know nothing about my family....” Peter snarled, narrowing his eyes and shaking his head as he pushed his empty glass forward while mentally taking two drinks off his planned five. No, screw that one more and he was leaving he wasn’t sure he could put up with Sylar slagging off his family for much longer.

“Hmmm....well your brother dearest has been giving me a fair bit of information...so I’m not as in the dark as you seem to believe.” Sylar shrugged, tracing the rim of his next shot with his index finger.

“I don’t want to know.” Peter sighed, pushing the stool back from the bar by resting his hands on the bar to steady himself and getting down from the stool as he pushed enough bills into the bartender’s hand to cover his drinks.

“You do really Peter....just like you want to know what it feels like to have me fucking you.” Sylar called after him, causing the younger male to stop in mid step with his eyes wide with shock. How the hell did he know?

“You are so full of yourself.” Peter said through gritted teeth, daring to take another step forward but not expecting to hear the ridiculously psychotic laughter that followed him from the other’s lips.

“Oh please Peter, why do you think I’ve been following you so much? It’s not just because your power would be a welcome addition to the several I’ve had over the years.” Sylar grinned, downing his next shot with a gulp before the glass rested back on the bar.

“Excuse me?” Peter asked, finally letting himself turn around to meet the smouldering gaze of the other male.

“Face it Peter....you are one of those guys who just screams ‘fuck me now’. It’s like a beacon you subconsciously have to me and while we snark amongst ourselves you have to admit there is a spark.” Sylar said, ignoring his last two shots and pushing a few bills toward the bartender as he got to his feet.

“There is no such thing.” Peter said calmly though hearing Sylar talking in such a way about the chemistry he had been feeling for him seemed to assure him if he wanted to act at least he wouldn’t get pushed away. Not that he would ever act in such a ridiculous way of course.

“I don’t believe you.” Sylar said slyly, a challenging tone in his voice that made Peter sure that any argument that occurred that night was one he was destined not to win.

Instead of replying Peter kept walking out the bar, ignoring the sound of Sylar’s taunting voice calling after him as he braced himself against the bitter weather. Though as he got closer to the alley outside his apartment building, he heard the sound of footsteps behind him in a pace so fast that he was sure it was just some figure running late for a family meeting; until he reached the doorway and found his body pinned to the rickety old door before he could even pull his keys out the pockets of his jeans.

“Sylar! You STALKER! Let me go!” Peter snapped, trying to move his just enough to actually reach the keys if he needed to defend himself though stopped when he heard Sylar tsking.

“You didn’t really think I was just going to let you walk away did you?” Sylar asked, immerging from the shadows with his gaze moving hungrily up and down the younger male’s figure.

“I had hoped that since it was the holidays you would give up but obviously not.” Peter said attempting to move his head in defiance but Sylar merely laughed.

“What you really believe in that peace on earth and goodwill to all men crap? No Peter, I’ve been around you long enough tonight the sparks aren’t so easily put out this time.” Sylar grinned, closing the gap between them and resting his hand beside Peter’s side as their gazes locked.

The sound of quickening breaths filled the air when neither of them spoke and Sylar’s gaze remained locked with Peter’s as he softly brushed their lips together. For a split second Peter wanted to keep up his charade of how much the thought of kissing Sylar disgusted him, but as soon as their lips touched he knew it was impossible to resist. It seemed like Sylar eased his telekinetic grip on his head as he was able to tilt it to the side to deepen it, his lips parting to let the subject of his fantasies mark the inside with the taste that would assure him in the morning that this was real if he was gone.

Finally with a shuddering breath Sylar pulled back, their gazes still locked and it was then Peter felt the invisible weight leave his limbs. Instead of running, like any sane person would have done, Peter knew he couldn’t deny the physical ache to be with Sylar any more and grabbed him by the collar of his jacket, crashing their lips together again; letting the sound of moans from their mouths echo in his ears. He felt Sylar’s hand slide into the pocket of his jeans and thread the key ring of his keys around his index finger. Normally he would have made a smart remark about him being desperate or over presumptuous but his mind was so corrupted by the taste of him in his mouth he just wanted them in his room.

He felt Sylar pull back a little, his breath grazing his lips as he used the key to unlock the door, he rested his free hand on Peter’s side to steady him so he didn’t fall when he turned the handle and pulled the key out before backing Peter inside. Their mouths continued to collide breathlessly as he steered Peter into the lift, letting Peter press the right button for his floor before occupying his thoughts with more kisses. Deep in the back of his mind Peter was sure it was just the alcohol making this fantasy become a reality, because there was no way that in any other circumstances Sylar would be letting this happen, when he could be assaulting him and getting what he wanted. Yet in a way he had to wonder if what Sylar had said was true. Did he really feel the same way that he did? 

The lift stopped before he could ask the questions that he knew could probably kill the mood and he let Sylar grab him by the belt loops of his jeans and lead him out the lift, down the corridor to his front door. Sylar’s lips grazed up and down his neck as Peter took the keys from him and used them to open the front door before any of the neighbours appeared to reprimand him for waking them at a ridiculous time. Once the door was flung open, colliding with the wall behind it Peter turned back around and let Sylar’s lips meet his deeply again, his arms around his waist letting him direct him inside. He heard the front door close with a thud once they were close to the couch and the lock click shut as he managed to make Sylar take a detour from the couch to his bed. He wasn’t sure he would be able to stand all the foreplay when he would much rather just be fucked by this guy who had entranced him heart and soul from the moment he laid eyes on him. Sylar seemed to get what he was implying and slowed the tone of their kisses with a sly grin as he sucked at Peter’s bottom lip teasingly as they clung to each other once they reached the bed.

Peter’s back was soon rested on his mattress with Sylar’s legs folded either side of his hips, the elder male’s fingers tips grazing over his collarbone and under the material of his shirt in what could easily be read as desperation. Peter’s own sense of restraint seemed to getting shorter and shorter as his hands rested on Sylar’s cheeks, keeping his lips within kissing range even as his lips got bruised with the intensity. Finally he felt what seemed like invisible fingers unbuttoning his shirt, and when he let his arms move the way Sylar wanted he found his back cradled by his removed Jacket and shirt. His hands let go of Sylar’s face and let his face make it’s own trail down his chest, sucking and nipping on sensitive skin on his chest and ribs causing him to moan and gasp for more attention. He was so distracted by the feel of teeth nipping at his skin that he didn’t even notice Sylar’s power unzipping his jeans and prying them from his form complete with shoes and boxers. The only give away was the feel of leather brushing bare skin causing an electric shock to flow through his erection, he only just managed to stop himself from begging for him to not stop. Yet even as his body writhed in perfect bliss his hands grazed up and down Sylar’s hips, his mind fixated on the thought of Sylar’s shirt and jacket off his perfect body. It was like a second sense, like Sylar’s power had finally connected with the urge deep inside him and while it wasn’t exactly a power he’d want to own forever at the moment it was the most perfect one he could have asked for. He heard Sylar’s arms letting the clothes fall down his arms on to the floor behind him and let Peter rest his hands back on his jaw to pull his lips back to his own.

With a fair bit more manoeuvring and clothes being peeled from skin, despite Peter being perfectly fine having Sylar in nothing but his unbelievably hot leather pants he was definitely relieved when Sylar’s skin was brushing teasingly against the full length of his own. Their lips continued to move in synch perfectly until Sylar’s hoarse voice asked for things he should have known would be coming into the conversation. He managed to pull some condoms and a lube from his drawer using the newly acquired power and let Sylar’s own power take over so he could grab them himself. Sylar’s teeth nipped and sucked on the side of his neck as he let his legs be parted and was in perfect ecstasy when he felt Sylar’s fingers slide smoothly inside him causing his back to arch and a groan to pull itself from between his lips. Sylar’s lips grazed against his hips to sooth him as he prepared him even more and before he could stop himself he was doing what he had promised himself he would never do.

“Oh god....just do it! Do it now!” 

Sylar stilled a little as he sucked a bruise on his hip before slowly sliding his fingers out of him. He didn’t give him any warning as he thrust inside him causing him to groan even louder than before. He found his hands pinned with invisible restraints above his head and his breathing was ragged as his eyes rolled back into his head, letting the waves of pleasure cut through him. He knew it was wrong to like this feeling, being taken by a guy who was so wrong for him and would probably kill him for his power without a second thought but at that moment he didn’t care, all he wanted was to feel like there was something more between them than a power. Finally he felt the orgasm shaking his insides and causing him to cry out.

The invisible force on his wrists was lifted as he felt Sylar slide off him once he was done, causing Peter to open his eyes and bite his lip as the elder male slid the condom off him and disappeared into the bathroom to dispose of it. He rolled himself on to his side as he listened to the sound of the faucet being turned on and pulled the covers over him as he heard Sylar coming back. He half expected the elder male to gather his clothes, get dressed and leave like it had never happened so he was pleasantly surprised when Sylar got under the covers beside him and rested his head on the pillow beside his.

“Look-you don’t have to stay if you regret what happened...” Peter knew he sounded unsure and like he was trying to push him out at the same time but Sylar seemed to see straight though his nerves.

“You aren’t going to get rid of me that easily Petrelli,” He whispered softly in his ear as he wrapped his arm around his waist and nipped a kiss at the side of his neck causing him to shiver.

The feeling of Sylar’s body practically wrapping around his own was something he knew he would never forget even if it was only a one time thing, but from the way Sylar was acting that didn’t seem to be the case he just prayed he didn’t wake up to an empty bed. His eyes slid closed as Sylar pulled the covers over them a little tighter and he couldn’t help the smile appearing on his lips. When he woke what felt like minutes later he still had Sylar’s arm around his waist and the feel of his breath grazing against the side of his neck from between perfectly shaped lips. His gaze remained fixated on the wall as he tried to get used to the feeling of having someone beside him in bed for the first time in what felt like years, that for a moment he didn’t even fixate on the fact that it was Christmas morning and he should be calling his mother to check she was OK.

“Hey.” A hoarse voice whispered in his ear, demanding his attention and causing him to roll over and let himself drown in the depths of the elder male’s eyes.

“Hey...I would have thought you’d be gone, ” he whispered; though immediately realised he’d said something wrong when Sylar’s smile faded causing him to immediately backtrack, “Er...I didn’t mean that you think I did.”

“Hey, you seem to think I’ll just walk out on you after I got what I’ve wanted for years?” Sylar asked raising an eyebrow, which combined with the feeling of his calloused fingertips grazing patterns on the younger male's chest made Peter flush a little.

“Maybe, just a little.” Peter whispered, looking down as he gradually became aware of how vulnerable and naked he was to the killer beside him.

“Then you obviously don’t know me that well do you?” Sylar grinned, brushing his free hand under Peter’s chin to make him meet his gaze before brushing a soft kiss against his lips.

“Maybe not, but I’d like to.” Peter murmured against his lips, resting a hand on the back of his neck to deepen their kiss, a groan of satisfaction coming from between his lips when Sylar’s lips parted to let his tongue glide teasingly at the seam of his lips. 

This was definitely one of the best Christmases he’d ever had, finally getting the man he wanted, that he couldn't wait until next year. Something told him that was going to be even better.  


**Author's Note:**

> I apologise for the quality of this, I did try and tweak it a little to bring it up to my current standards which compared to back then is much higher. I'm just too tired to completely rewrite the whole thing at the moment which is what I think it really needs...I might do if you guys think it would work better that way.  
> Either way I hope you enjoyed it and have a Merry Christmas :)


End file.
